Nemesis
by zoltaire
Summary: One Death Eater's greed for glory and power sets in motion the decimation of Voldemort's army. In this world, Justice is not blind and Vengence belongs to Nemesis.
1. Chapter 1

**NEMESIS: Chapter 1**

Disclaimer: The characters and the universe of Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. No disrespect is intended. This story is written for sheer enjoyment. No profit is being made from it. The story itself is mine. 

My arms and legs are burning. My palms are cramping from being curled for so long and I can't properly see through the sweat dripping into my eyes. I take a quick break to wipe the perspiration from my face with my already sodden shirt. I balance and quickly let loose the last roundhouse of this morning's workout.

The punching bag dances in ever-slowing circles, gracefully swaying now. I allow my eyes to follow the bag's movement, allow my mind to fall into the trance-like state that is best for stretching. The hypnotic movement of the bag finally conquers my thoughts and I raise my arms for a well-earned cool down stretch.

* * *

Just a little over two hours later, I am completely ready for the first day of my last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am showered, rubbed down with liniment (thankfully odor-free) and dressed. The muscles I have cultivated for the past sixteen years have been carefully glamouried. As part of my disguise, I have also donned the essential bulky robes and baggy uniform. 

Every inch of my being: my body, my voice, my personality, even my hair, has all been subtly altered. Just enough to be unmemorable. When someone hears the name 'Hermione Granger,' they think 'the bookworm' or 'that insufferable know-it-all' or 'Potter's female friend.' Beyond that, I am quickly forgotten.

As is best for all.

No one here has ever seen my true form, nor has anyone here ever experienced my true personality. Those who have are few, and only four still live. My parents and my two mentors still breathe. My marks, well, they don't.

I gaze down at my body. Beneath the bulky robes, I can see the outline of hit-hardened muscles. I can feel the tautness of new scar tissue, being stretched from where last week's mark got lucky.

Although I know I should be more confident than this, I can't help closing my eyes to look at the glamourie in my mind. Just to make sure it is as it should be. That's always the trouble with glamourie. Unlike polyjuice, glamourie is not physically visible to the caster. My glamourie has never failed, but I don't think I'll ever get over my fear of discovery. This is good. Fear keeps me on my toes.

I take in the soft, pink body in my mind. It's been years since I was last soft and pink. I hope I've not grown jaded. But that's what being raised to be a contractor will do to you. I take the small indulgence and reminisce. I've got time; breakfast is still an hour away.

_

* * *

All my life, I had known what my family was, what they did. My parents never hid it from me. It was expected that I would follow the tradition. It was always there, but it was a given that my training wouldn't begin until I was 15. That would allow time for me to experience childhood. To play, to be as normal as I could be, for the short time I was allowed. That was the plan. Funny how plans don't always pan out. _

_We were all gathered in the living room, waiting for Grandmum and Gramps to arrive from their house in Newbiggin-by-the-Sea. My family's home in Durham was decked out for the Thanksgiving season. While it is an American holiday, my family takes every opportunity to spend time with each other. Statistically speaking, we don't usually live as long as others, so we treasure every excuse to be together that we can find._

_Grandmum and Gramps were running late. Very late._

_I remember we waited and waited. I remember how worried Mum and Daddy were, and how they tried to hide it. I remember as the hour got later and later, the faces of my relatives became more and more drawn._

_I remember the phone call. The Northumbria police rang our house at 2:00 am that morning. A terrible accident. A senseless crime. Sorry, no survivors. Sorry, no suspects. Hate to be a bother, but the county coroner needed to have the bodies identified as soon as possible. Happy Thanksgiving._

_That was the turning point. That was the last soft, pink day I have lived. At ten years old, my training began. My parents for martial arts. A mentor for muggle technology, bow and arrow, knife- and swordplay. And a mentor for wandless magic._

_I trained, I bled, I fought. I never cried. _

_First year came, and went. Soft, pink 'Mione Granger quickly established herself as the resident know-it-all and best female friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. There was some excitement at the end of the year, but it was all good practice for me to keep my cover._

_During summer vacation, I trained, I bled, I fought. I never cried. _

_Second year came, and went. Soft, pink 'Mione Granger remained the resident know-it-all and best female friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. There was quite a bit of excitement that year. And the specter of Voldemort grew._

_During summer vacation, I trained, I bled, I fought. I never cried. _

_Third year came, and went. Soft, pink 'Mione Granger remained the resident know-it-all and best female friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. 'Mione became something of a teacher's pet that year in order to secure a time-turner. She fell out of favor with her friends, regained their trust, saved the notorious Sirius Black and helped bring to light the involvement of Peter Pettigrew. She revealed Remus Lupin's secret and discovered another side to Severus Snape._

_During the winter vacation, I took the time-turner to my mentors. They were able to create something like it, utilizing both muggle technology and ancient wizardry. The result was a time-turner that could turn years, hours, minutes or seconds. It could also be used as a portkey to a specially designed training room._

_My training spanned a full year that summer, thanks to the bootleg time-turner. I branched further into weaponry, quickly surpassing my mentors' goals for me. During that summer, I trained, I bled, and I fought. I never cried._

_Fourth year came, and went. Soft, pink 'Mione Granger remained the resident know-it-all and best female friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. She aided Harry Potter more than usual that year. She shocked the school by showing up on the arm of famous Quidditch star, Victor Krum and battled nasty tabloids. By the end, Voldemort's specter was not just a foreshadow, he had returned._

_During summer vacation, I sat and passed my O.W.L.S. My mentor was more than qualified to preside over them, and my scores would be recognized as being awarded from Salem Institute in the United States. That summer, for a full year, I trained, I bled, I fought. I never cried._

_Fifth year came, and went, and with it, my magically changed seventeenth birthday. 'Mione Granger remained the resident know-it-all and best female friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. She aided Harry Potter in starting the D.A., she outsmarted the 'High Inquisitor.' She fought Death Eaters in the Department of Mystery. She lost a close friend with the death of Sirius Black. She became completely obsessed with the Library, trying to find clues to help Harry Potter. In the process, she found something of far greater importance to me. In the annals of the Library, a stack of Daily Prophets from six standard years past revealed the answer to a mystery that had long haunted my nightmares._

_On the front page of the Daily Prophet stood the remains of Grandmum and Gramps' house. The caption, **'Dark Mark Spotted over Gutted Muggle Residence in Newbiggin-by-the-Sea!'**_

_My world crashed. Suddenly the worlds of 'Mione Granger and Hermione collided. I retained just enough sense to cast a silencing charm upon myself before the rage poured vocally from my body. I vented my anger, but reigned in my sadness. There would be time for that later._

_After I regained control of myself, I calmly collected the Daily Prophet, and made my way to the front of the library. I allowed 'Mione Granger to come to the front once again. She nodded politely at Madam Pince and returned to her dorm. The rest of fifth year passed uneventfully._

_During summer vacation, I sat and passed my N.E.W.T.S. That summer, for a full year, I trained, I bled, I fought, and I cried. I screamed my grief to the heavens and the Gods heard my desperate cry for vengeance. That summer, at eighteen, I was granted my first hit. _

_To be honest, I don't remember the name or the face. I do remember the silver mask it wore. I remember its screams of agony. And I remember the beautiful feeling of justice that overtook me when it finally breathed its last pain-filled breath. _

_Sixth year came, and went. 'Mione Granger remained the resident know-it-all and best female friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. She participated in more skirmishes with Death Eaters, all the while biding her time for when I could deliver justice. _

_The war loomed closer and closer to Hogwarts. More students were losing loved ones, and more contracts were coming in. My mentors handled the negotiations for me. I just wanted the justice end. 'Mione was hard pressed to escape her hangers on, Harry and Ron, but I had been trained well, so there were not many problems. Until the last day of sixth year._

_The contract had come in; I had escaped the school and had taken my place to await my mark. When it came, it was not alone. It cursed its companion with an Unforgivable. It laughed in a high-pitched voice and a flash of silver caught the moonlight as it adjusted its grip on its wand._

_My lips curled into a smirk as I slashed the air with my magic. The mark raised stunned eyes to meet mine. It opened its mouth to speak, but could not find its voice as I had ripped its vocal chords from its throat. I released my hold on my magic and allowed it to fall to the ground beside its recent victim._

_It attempted to scramble to its feet, feebly trying to locate its wand. I couldn't control the chuckle that escaped my lips at this display. This mark had had this a long time coming. Its eyes were shiny with tears as it looked up at me. I saw recognition flicker into its eyes as it gazed upon 'Mione's visage. I watched gleefully as terror replaced recognition as I melted the glamourie to display myself, or as the Death Eaters know me…_

"_Nemesis!" it mouthed, a small croak escaping its ruined vocal chords. All know my face instinctively, though none have survived to tell others. I am known to them only by my actions, and they fear me._

_Never breaking eye contact with the mark, I reached behind me to my sword sheath. This mark did not deserve to die by magic. The sword was muggle, reinforced with ancient ruins for strength, but it was a wholly muggle weapon. The sweet hiss of steel against scabbard echoed sinisterly in the silent night._

_It began to blubber. It began to bawl. It's pleas sounded humorous, raspy as they were. I allowed my laughter to creep into my eyes as I stared down at it. I reached out with my magic and secured it in place as it attempted to escape._

_However wrong it may be, I savored its fear. I wondered, did Grandmum and Gramps feel this fear before this creature and its companions killed them? I shook the reverie from my mind, and concentrated on the quivering mark at my feet._

_Enough playtime, Hermione. Finish the contract, secure the victim, and return. I gazed down dispassionately at it. I spoke the last words it would ever hear this side of hell._

"_Goodbye, Peter." _

_Its eyes widened, staring into eternity as the sword swept its head clear from its shoulders. Two thuds and the contract was full-filled._

"_Justice is served."_

_I glanced down at the mark's victim. Shock filled my being as I stared at Professor Severus Snape. My eyes met his for a brief instant, before he returned to unconsciousness. I stood for I do not know how long, just looking at my professor. I had known for a few years that he was a spy, but to see him in the clothing of one of my chosen marks, it was enough to unsteady me._

_I quickly shook myself free of my trance, glamouried myself and cast concealment charms on both of us before levitating him back to the castle. I cast a distraction charm to slip us into the infirmary. Once he was settled on a bed, I summoned a house-elf, gave him explicit instructions to fetch Madame Pomphrey in two minutes' time, and then made myself scarce._

_The next morning, Harry, Ron and I boarded the Hogwarts Express homebound._

_During summer vacation, I graduated school. My graduation certificate was sealed and placed within the Department of Education in the Ministry to be opened upon my seventeenth standard birthday, at the end of my seventh year. That summer, for a full year, I trained, I bled, I fought. I cried no more tears. _

_My energy went into exterminating the Death Eaters, and preparing my mind for the coming year. I turned twenty that year. I did not dwell on that, because as far as anyone at Hogwarts was concerned, I was just 'Mione Granger, know-it-all, best female friend of the Boy-Who-Lived, seventeen year old mudblood._

_That summer, Nemesis became a household name among the Death Eaters. It was spoken of with more fear than the name of Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The Dark Lord himself will look over his shoulder in fear before I am finished with him._

_I am Justice. I am Vengeance. I am Nemesis._

* * *

My internal clock chimes and I rouse myself from my reverie. I check my glamourie once more, and then head to the door of my room. This year, I had made Head Girl. I wasn't very surprised, 'Mione Granger was expected to achieve this position. 

The Head Boy and I did not get along particularly well. Draco Malfoy, second smartest student in Hogwarts. Of course, we might have gotten on better, if I wasn't a mudblood, and if Nemesis wasn't trying to kill his daddy. Oh, well.

Being Head Girl came with certain privileges. A bedroom to myself, for one. A bathroom to myself, for the other. Plenty of room to transfigure a workout room. And extra hall privileges to aid in my contracts. Not that the Headmaster knew that.

I paused my thoughts, brought them to heel, consciously stooped my shoulders and trudged out my quarters into the hallway. 'Mione Granger was going to breakfast.

TBC

A/N: As it seems my muse is openly taunting me in my endeavors to write more of 'The Puppet's Master,' I decided to submit what said traitorous muse has given me. I only hope it can be met with the same kindness that my other story has been met with. While this one was beta'd by my loving hubby, together, we may have missed some grammatical errors and sentence flow problems. Please don't be shy in pointing these out to me.

As always, please read and review.


	2. Chapter 2

**NEMESIS: Chapter 2**

Disclaimer: The characters and the universe of Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. No disrespect is intended. This story is written for sheer enjoyment. No profit is being made from it. The story itself is mine. 

The Great Hall was awash in chatter on the first morning back to school. I sat in my usual seat across from Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table, listening to, what else, Quidditch talk. I swear, sometimes, these boys make me want to rip my hair out. But, we all deal with stress in different ways. I accept a contract or workout, (they think I read, of course); they talk about Quidditch.

My mind wandered for a while, finally focusing on the Head Table. I wondered at the two vacant spots. 'Hmmm. Who's missing? Who's missing? Potions, Transfig, DADA, CoMC, Herbology… Looks like we're missing two professors. Okay, which ones?'

I was drug from my introverted thoughts by Harry's voice vying for my attention.

"'Mione! Oy! 'Mione!"

I shook myself back to the present, pushed 'Mione forward, and smiled at Harry. "Yes, Harry?"

"We wanted to know if you were still subscribed to the Daily Prophet."

"Of course, Harry. Why wouldn't I be?" I asked as I reached for my glass of pumpkin juice.

"Well, we wanted to make sure you still got it so we could check to see if there has been anything more on that vigilante." Replied Ron.

'Ah, now we're getting somewhere.' "What vigilante, Ron?" I asked in a huff. "Honestly, you really can't believe everything they write in the paper. What if all the journalists are like Rita Skeeter?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, attempting to roll their eyes without getting caught. I smothered a wholly un-'Mione-like smirk at their attempts at subterfuge.

"'Mione!" Harry and Ron both exclaimed, looked at each other and broke into gales of laughter.

I allowed my stifled laugh to erupt to join theirs just as a flurry of wings announced the morning's post.

An owl dropped the Daily Prophet on my empty plate. (I learned fairly early not to dish anything out before post arrived.) I dug into my satchel for two knuts to pay the owl when a raven dropped a rolled parchment in my lap.

I quickly stuffed the knuts into the owls money pouch and snatched the scroll before anyone could see it. I snuck a glance at my tablemates to see if they had noticed anything out of the ordinary. Thankfully, they were already engrossed in the paper.

Unfortunately, Professor Snape and surprisingly, Draco Malfoy had both caught sight of the unusual delivery. Both were covertly watching me, curiosity evident, despite their cool demeanors.

Although I was itching to see who the new mark was, as that was the only type of correspondence delivered to me via raven, I forced myself to load my plate and finish my breakfast. I was extremely glad that I had gotten an early start this morning. That left me with plenty of time to run back to my quarters, read and accept the contract, and still make it to my first class of the day, which was, uuggh! Double Potions with Slytherin.

I hurriedly finished my breakfast, interrupted Harry and Ron to inform them I had forgotten something in my room and would meet them in class, and then exited the Great Hall. All the while, I was aware of two sets of eyes following my progress.

Once in the hallway, I placed a quick concealment charm and silencing spell upon myself. Not a moment too soon, it turned out, as first Draco Malfoy, and then Professor Snape came walking nonchalantly out of the Great Hall. Both attempted to play off the fact that they had followed me out. Abruptly, Draco turned towards his quarters and Professor Snape started towards his classroom.

Concealed as I was, I smirked to myself and headed silently towards my quarters.

* * *

I was shocked, completely and totally shocked. Shocked and just a bit numb. 

Dumbfounded, I read through the contract for the third time, hoping that I had misread it the first two times.

Nope. No such luck. Daggonit! Of all the stupid, moronic, imbecilic…

"Aaaarrrgh!" I screamed. This could not be happening.

But there it was, in black and vellum-color.

**_Contract paid in full for Severus Snape._**

How could this have happened? I wanted to hit something. I wanted to _kill_ something. 'Well, there is Snape. You're supposed to hit him, so I guess that's taken care of.'

"No." I said to myself as I paced the length of my bedroom. "No, there has to be a way out of this. I wonder who contracted for this hit."

I struggled to overcome the compulsion spell that bound me to the contract. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. A fail-safe, if you will. In case a mark got a lucky _imperio_ off before I hit it first. Just a minor insidiously pervasive compulsion spell to guarantee justice was served. Unfortunately, both my mentor and myself put this spell into effect. The only way of neutralizing it was to either fulfill the contract, or nullify it by proving that a Death Eater had initiated the contract. That was what I was betting on now.

Sure, it sounds funny. It'd be hilarious, if it didn't happen so often. Death Eater politics, why, it's enough to make even me shudder. Normally, it wasn't that big a deal to me. If a Death Eater contracted out another Death Eater, well, they'd get their's in the end. And in the mean time, one less Death Eater. But, _Snape_. No, there had to be a way out. I scrutinized the contract again. Unfortunately, since the contract was paid in full, there was no bill-to name.

I fought the urge to scream again as I quickly secured parchment and a quill to whip out a message to my parents and mentors. I had to know who contracted this hit. Something was tickling at the back of my skull. Something about this situation wasn't right.

Finishing the letter, I walked towards the window. I pulled my necklace out from beneath my robes. Instead of a traditional pendant, there, threaded through the silver chain, was a raven-call. I brought the whistle to my mouth and blew.

Within minutes, the same raven landed on my windowsill. She hadn't gone far after dropping the contract with me; instead, she had waited in the Dark Forest for my reply. I gave her instructions to return with a reply to my inquiry, and then threw her to the air.

I watched as she took wing. Once I was satisfied that she was safely off, I turned around and headed to Potions. My heart felt indescribably heavy as I trudged down the stairs. I only hoped there was a way out of that contract. Nemesis had never failed before, and she would not this time either.

* * *

The dungeons were dank and dark as always, but my mind was not on the mildew growing in the corners, nor on attempting to identify just what _that_ smell was. 

All my attention was riveted on my mark. Professor Snape swept up and down the aisles of the classroom as he lectured. My eyes followed every movement, automatically searching out a weakness that could be exploited.

He finished his lecture, pointed his wand at the chalkboard at the front of the classroom and whispered the incantation to reveal the directions for the potion for today. That finished, he turned back around and caught my gaze before I could lower it. I cursed myself silently; I was not usually this careless.

Quickly, I cleared my mind of anything dealing with the contract, which is to say, most of my thoughts. A suspicious look crossed his face as he received the mental image of me sweeping everything into a back closet and locking it tight. I hurriedly flooded my mind with potions texts. The barrage of information was enough to force him out, but I would not be so lucky next time.

Chastised, I turned my attention toward the chalkboard. My eyes widened before I could help myself. 'What was going on today! It's almost as if I was losing complete control of my functions. Ah, yes. I remembered now. The compulsion spell. Stupid Hermione! Stupid, stupid, stupid!'

At that moment, what sounded suspiciously like a choked off laugh sounded from the front of the room. I narrowed my eyes at the source, which just happened to be my feared Potions Professor. He just arched an eyebrow at me in response. I sighed and once again focused on the chalkboard.

The _aperio _potion. A potion specifically made to reveal what has been hidden. I scanned through the list of ingredients. I was fairly sure I had all of them in my personal stores. Why hadn't I thought of that earlier? The _aperio_ potion would be the perfect way to identify who contracted the hit on Professor Snape!

I quickly schooled my features back into their semblance of calm and continued with class. I walked to the storage cabinet and retrieved the necessary ingredients and began preparation on the potion.

By the end of 45 minutes, my potion was the perfect shade of periwinkle blue, almost transparent, and the perfect viscosity. I ladled some into a vial, carefully attached a label with my name on it, and with great control, walked to Professor Snape's desk. I placed it on his desk and turned to return to my seat.

"Miss Granger," his silky voice cut through the quiet dungeon air.

I slowly turned back around, struggling to keep my hands from his neck. The compulsion spell was getting much worse. I fought to keep my voice level, 'Mione-like. "Yes, Professor?" I inquired politely.

He smirked at me, raised his wand and cast a disillusionment spell upon me. "Miss Granger, I believe you need to test your potion, if you want to receive a passing grade."

My mind panicked at his words. If I drank that potion, my glamourie would be removed, along with the disillusionment spell he placed on me. If I didn't drink the potion, I would fail this project.

I quickly raced through my options. All two of them. 'Either reveal myself to not only my professor, but to all of the seventh year Gryffindor and Slytherin form, in effect revealing myself to the entire school, not to mention dozens of Death Eater spawn, or fail a class I've already passed, as I've already graduated. Hmmm. Yep, no contest.'

So I did what any brave Gryffindor, secret contractor would do. I turned tail and ran.

* * *

By lunch, all of seventh year knew I had run out of potions. By dinner, the entire student body knew. By breakfast the next morning, the ghosts were swearing that I had been transferred to St. Mungo's for a nervous breakdown. 

Me? I was sitting in my room, waiting for my _aperio_ potion to finish. The compulsion spell had gotten so bad, my glamourie was suffering. I'd take an absent day of classes over revealing my identity any day.

Finally, it was finished. I grabbed the contract and unrolled it. I transfigured a quill into a paintbrush and dipped it into the _aperio_ potion. Just as I was about to set brush to parchment, my mentor's raven flew in through the window.

I sighed and placed the brush back in the potion, and unrolled the parchment scroll. I smiled as I read the contents. It was not a pleasant smile, and I knew it.

**_Contract for Severus Snape initiated by Lucius Malfoy_**

One piece of evidence down, one to go. With renewed purpose, I placed the sodden brush to the parchment of the contract and brushed across the words '**_Severus Snape_**,' right where Mr. Malfoy would have written the mark's name. Sure enough, under Professor Snape's name, the words '**_Lucius Malfoy_**' appeared in bold script.

Bingo!

I sat down on my bed to ponder what to do next. With the two pieces of evidence regarding the contract's initiator, the compulsion spell was broken. What to do now, though?

Once again, my naughty side began to take over. I smiled a truly devious smile, grabbed both letters and tied them to my mentor's raven. I gave her very specific instructions to wait five minutes, then to deliver them to the dark man sitting at the head table.

That done, I hurriedly finished dressing, glamouried myself and scampered out of my room, high-tailing it to the Great Hall. I definitely didn't want to miss _this_ show.

* * *

It was so worth the hurry this morning. As expected, all eyes were on me as I entered the Great Hall. I saw Professor Snape scowl fiercely right before he stood up and began moving my way, no doubt with detention in mind. 

I caught his gaze and let my mental lock slip just a bit. That bit was enough to make him falter. I'm not certain what images he saw, but it bought me the time I needed. I wordlessly, tilted my head toward the window where the owl post usually comes from. His look of confusion lasted only a moment, and was soon cleared when the same black raven from yesterday flew in, this time with a letter, or two, for Professor Snape.

He automatically caught them in the air, glanced at me again, and then unrolled the parchment. His face was a study in here-to-fore unseen emotion. His eyes widened in disbelief, his face turned white, red and then purple. His eyes snapped twin fires as he turned first to Draco, who tried his best not to wither under his Head of House's gimlet glare, and then to me.

He resumed his stalk towards me, and I awaited him. Through clenched teeth, he growled "Hallway. Now."

I nodded and turned around to lead the way. I could hear the deathly quiet in the Great Hall as we marched toward the doors and out them. I could feel the stares at my back. Curiosity, Pity, even Glee. I smirked, not even trying to hold it in. 'Just you wait,' I warned the gleeful ones. 'Just you wait.'

TBC

A/N: Okay you lucky readers you. Here's chapter number two for your viewing pleasure!

Thank you to my reviewers. Your feedback means so much to me. Even if it's just a few words of encouragement, it is nice to know that there are people out there who are actually reading what I'm writing. Big thank-yous!

As always, please read and review. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**NEMESIS: Chapter 3**

Disclaimer: The characters and the universe of Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. No disrespect is intended. This story is written for sheer enjoyment. No profit is being made from it. The story itself is mine. 

Professor Snape actually lasted much longer than I would have given him credit for. It took him a full two minutes, at least, before he attempted to intimidate poor 'Mione Granger. Two minutes is a big deal, for him.

"Miss Granger," he began in that silky voice of his. "You will kindly inform me of the, I'm sure, highly _logical_ reason you felt it would be a good idea to pull a _prank_ of this magnitude at the beginning of the school year." His lips curled into a cruel smirk at his pronouncement of 'logical' and 'prank.'

For a moment, I felt pity for him as his suffering at the hands of the Marauders was swiftly brought to the forefront of my mind. I pondered this, wondering if I should ease up a bit on him. True, I was having a bit of fun, but more importantly, I was trying to warn him. Fortuitously for myself, the malicious, wholly _Slytherin_ glint in his eye gave away his game.

Right then. No sympathy. Perhaps a bit of shock value instead. I smirked at him. Nemesis smirked at him. His eyes widened at the sight of such an expression appearing on little 'Mione Granger's face.

I turned away from him, just long enough to murmur a quiet concealment charm and silencing spell for our surrounding area. When I turned back to face him, his mouth was open in prelude to the coming diatribe. I did the only thing that would effectively shut him up long enough for me to begin the conversation.

I melted the glamourie.

Silence reigned for a whole five minutes while a waited for him to take it all in. To the end of my days, I will remember my most feared and respected professor, gaping at me like a fish. He must have opened and closed his mouth while trying to formulate a question at least a dozen times. Finally, he settled on:

"Who?"

"Who am I, Professor Snape?" I asked him, trying to buy him some time to gain his composure. While it was humorous and definitely memorable to catch him off guard like that, I was beginning to become a bit unnerved by his whole un-Snape-ness.

He nodded in confirmation, not trusting himself to speak more at that moment. His eyes began to clear and I heaved an internal sigh of relief. _This_ Snape I could deal with. In keeping with the familiar footing, I allowed the pretenses of 'Mione Granger to melt away, the last of the glamourie gone. Now all that stood before him was Nemesis nee Hermione.

"Professor, you know who I am."

"Nemesis." It was not a question. And although he tried valiantly to hide it, I detected the waver of fear in his voice.

I nodded, and decided to help him out a bit. "Very good, Severus."

His fear evaporated, even for a time as he glared at me and growled out. "Miss Granger, you will not use your position to disrespect a professor of this institution. Fifty points from Gryffindor, and I believe that a trip to the Headmaster's office is in order. You'll be lucky to retain your Head Girl rank, let alone graduate once he discovers your 'secret.'"

To his surprise, I laughed. Not a pretty laugh, but a darkly cynical laugh. Strangely, it was the type of laugh I always assumed he would utter. Should he ever be compelled to laugh.

"Severus, Severus, Severus." I shook my head in mock despair. "Do you really think I would reveal myself to you and not plan for this sort of scenario? Of course not, I'm a _Gryffindor. Gryffindors_ are to foolish to plan anything out." I sighed dramatically.

"Severus, the minute you opened those parchments, a very specific spell was placed on you. Can you think of what type of spell that might be?"

His glare was the only answer I received.

"Fine, then. Because I'm feeling generous, I'll tell you. The next one, you'll have to work for.

"Firstly, when you opened those parchments, a conditional _obliviate_ was placed upon you. As you can well guess, I have taken quite the risk in revealing my identity to you. Should your mind be broached either by _leglimens_ or _Veritaserum_, or should you willingly attempt to disclose my identity, that knowledge will be completely and utterly _obliviated_ from your mind."

At his look of disbelief and, curiously enough, horror, I clarified my meaning. "Only the knowledge that Hermione Granger is Nemesis. The spell was created as a contingency plan, if you will. There is too much at stake for that information to get out to just anyone."

He nodded his understanding, and then turned his attention to the contract in his hand.

I studied him, as he studied his death warrant. For someone who had just learned how close he had come to being assassinated by the school's know-it-all, he was remarkably calm. Of course, he _was_ Snape.

Finally, he turned his attention back to me. He studied me for a long moment, and then nodded decisively.

"Miss Granger," he began, but I felt the need to interrupt him.

"Severus, let's start with one thing perfectly clear. Any talk of business is not to mention 'Miss Granger' in the sentence. 'Mione Granger does not know anything about contracts. 'Mione Granger will give you the correct answer to any question in class, and be unfailingly polite to you.

"However, _I_ am not 'Mione Granger. You will address me as either 'Hermione' or 'Nemesis' for the purposes of business. It is quite difficult enough keeping the two apart, without you complicating things further."

He glared at me again. I was really beginning to think that was the only expression his face was capable of. Okay, that and smirking.

"Fine. _Hermione_. I have a proposition for you. I can supply you with a continuous contract, payment in materials. What would I get in return?"

My breath hitched in my throat. 'A _continuous contract_. All the Death Eaters; he had to mean all of them. _All_ of the Death Eaters!' The desire I felt for what he was offering caught me by surprise. Even after all these years, it still scared me a bit that I could feel that much hatred., not that wasn't it. That much _nothingness_. Because truly, I felt nothing for them. They were marks. Not even gender-specific. Even in my thoughts, they were either 'the mark' or an 'it.'

I looked at him, and he knew he had me. Despite the fact that he already knew, I tried my best to compose myself.

Without a second thought, I nodded my agreement to his terms, whatever they may be. I had this chance to completely rid the world of _them._ Yes, Harry would kill Voldemort. But his followers were mine.

"What do you want in return?"

"An exchange in two parts. One part to be exacted now; the other to be paid when the need arises. The first, you already know."

Although my mind staggered under the consequences of my actions, I readily agreed. I snapped my fingers and a contract immediately appeared in my hand. I passed my hand over it and the standard contract language appeared. I passed the parchment over to Severus for his approval.

At his nod, I summoned a quill and a tablet to write against. "Just write his name where indicated and sign your name for fulfilled payment."

He followed my instructions. I scanned the document once more and, seeing everything in order, passed my hand over the top of it. The contract glowed silver, and then disappeared. It would reappear on one my mentor's desks.

Business concluded, I closed my eyes and reapplied my glamourie. When I opened them after double-checking that everything was as it should be, Snape was watching me with a bemused expression on his face. I arched an eyebrow at him. I'm sure the action caught him off guard, 'Mione Granger would _never_ presume to apply such a familiar tactic towards a professor.

"What was 'secondly'?" He asked.

I just looked at him in puzzlement. 'What is he talking about?' I asked myself.

He heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Before your explanation of your tailored _obliviate_, which I would be very interested to learn more about someday, you began the sentence with 'Firstly.'

"What was 'secondly'?"

"Oh!" I laughed. "'Secondly,' was the fact that, while I may be a student here as far as anyone, staff included, is concerned, my education does not rest solely on your, or any professor's, good will."

From the look on his face, he clearly was not getting it. Funny, I never thought of Professor Snape as particularly dense.

"I've already graduated, Severus."

His eyes bulged and he began to sputter. 'Really, who would have thought that would be worse than 'Mione Granger being Nemesis?'

"Ho.., Whe.., Ho.., Whe.."

I decided to take pity on the poor man before he fell into apoplectic shock. "'How' would be aging through extended use of the time-turner, which provided me with enough time to study and take my O.W.L.'s and my N.E.W.T.'s. 'When' would be last summer. Good day, Severus."

I simultaneously dropped the silencing charm and the concealment charm and made my way to Gryffindor tower. I was hard-pressed to control my smirk as I heard my esteemed 'Professor' Snape mutter "Bloody hell," in true Ron Weasley fashion.

I glanced down at the contract in my hand, and my battle with the smirk was lost. 'At last, I can go after it.' I had waited so very long for this particular mark. No one had had the guts to attempt a contract before on it.

All in all, this had been a satisfactory day. And it was only mid-morning.

* * *

A/N: Well, there you have it. I know, I know, it's been a full bloody month and all I have to show for it is this itty-bitty piddling chapter! Aaarrrggh! Yes, I know it doesn't make up for the time lapse. Unfortunately, it may take me another month to get another chapter out. Hubby, me and little 'uns are moving at the end of this month, so most of my free time will be spent packing. BUT, I will most devoutly attempt to put more effort into writing, both 'Nemesis' and 'The Potions Master.' Furthermore, I don't think I really need to mention this, but these stories are all AU, HBP does not exist in my universe. Of course, if it did, Nemesis would have set off immediately after dear Severus, if he would have even made it out of the castle.

Having wasted much time writing that, please read and review. Let me know what you think. Next time: Whom is Nemesis so excited to have a contract on? Let's ponder that a while, shall we. AAAAAAAANNNDDD. Cue exit music.

Taa.


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